


The Only Bluff That Mattered

by angelsandbrowncoats



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, First Kiss, Fluff and Crack, Getting Together, M/M, Not Beta Read, Sharing a Bed, Spiders, but i'm giving you this trope-y nonsense instead, ed is a nerd, ed is sneaky, ed's got good intentions though don't worry, i have so many other things i should be writing, oswald falls hard and fast bc that's just who he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 16:04:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11165277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandbrowncoats/pseuds/angelsandbrowncoats
Summary: Do it, I said. It'll be cute and short, I said.Based on this prompt from an au list somewhere on tumblr: “this is totally awkward considering before this the only interactions we’ve ever had have been casual nods to each other in the hallway but there’s a huge fucking spider in my bath tub and you seem like the friendly neighbor type please help me”





	The Only Bluff That Mattered

**Author's Note:**

> I love that Oswald got one over on Ed in the finale but here is a much fluffier story about Ed getting one over on Oswald. 
> 
> Oswald might be a tiny bit ooc but it is crack so idc
> 
> Have fun!

Oswald Cobblepot lived with his mother. He wasn't ashamed of the fact, far from it, since she seemed to be the only person in the world who cared for him unconditionally. Their relationship may have looked strange, even unhealthy, to the less-than-discerning outsider, but to them, it was perfect. Oswald made more than enough money for the both of them from his work for Fish Mooney and his mother coddled him as if he were still a child, not that he particularly disliked this about her (most of the time). Together, they would sing or dance or cook, and it was more than enough. But sometimes Oswald needed to lay low, and some very rare times he wanted a break from the way his mother hovered.

So he bought himself a second apartment.

It wasn't huge, just a place to stay when he needed to avoid his mother's place. Two rooms in total, with the bed less than five steps from the kitchen, the apartment had the one feature Oswald had required: a bathtub. He did _not_ take showers. The idea was absurdity itself.

Unfortunately, there was a downside to being a fully grown man who'd never had to take care of himself. There were some things he had no experience doing.

So when he was camping out at his second apartment for a few days, he wasn't sure what to do about the spider that had made itself comfortable in his tub. Little spiders didn't bother him, but this one looked to be the size of his hand and _covered_ in hair. He shuddered just thinking about it.

At present, he was standing outside his bathroom having a staring contest with the door.

After another five minutes had passed, he checked again.

Shit.

Fuck.

It had moved.

It was sitting on the handle of the faucet.

There went his vague plan to drown the thing...

He shut the door with another shudder. Maybe he should go out and buy a flamethrower? Always bring the right tools for the job, after all.

Oswald grabbed his coat and scarf, turning to lock his apartment as he exited, before pivoting on his heel and taking a swift step forward.

The next thing he knew, he couldn't see and his nose was smashed up against something soft and scratchy that smelled faintly of lavender and something else. He felt what could only be hands grabbing his shoulders and he instinctively punched forward, fist connecting with something that felt soft as his other hand went for his knife.

Before he could draw the blade, the hands on his shoulders had shoved him back as a quiet, "Ow," came from somewhere above him. He blinked at the light and slowly reoriented himself.

Oh shit.

He was still in the hallway in front of his apartment, standing barely two feet away from a doubled over figure he recognized as the guy who lived across from him. He must have run into him in his rush to find a way to kill the spider, face planting into his chest before punching him in the stomach. Yikes.

"I'm terribly sorry," he offered as the man stood, one hand rubbing gingerly at the right side of his abdomen.

"It's - oh dear," he winced again, "It's quite alright. It's might fault. I should have been paying attention to where I was going. Panicking was only natural."

Oswald huffed, "I did _not_ 'panic'. But no matter. I wasn't paying attention either."

The man shrugged, "No harm done."

Oswald raised an eyebrow, glancing meaningfully at the spot he was sure would bruise, but said nothing. Just as the man seemed to have enough of their awkward meeting and had turned to go, Oswald was struck by sudden inspiration.

"Hey, wait!"

The man turned, curiosity obvious in every feature.

"I - this is awkward, but - Is there any chance you could help me? It's just, there's this _massive_ spider in my bathtub and I was really looking forward to a bath..."

His neighbor began to smile at that and Oswald gave him his death-glare. Oddly, it had no effect.

"You want me to help you with a spider?"

"Yes? I didn't have anything to kill it with, I was wondering if you did?"

The other man blinked, "Kill it? But why?"

Oswald stared at him, "Because. It's. In. My. TUB."

"Yes, I know. But why kill it when you could capture it? Study it!"

"Study it? Why?"

"For science!"

"Uh huh. Well _you_ can capture and study it all you like, I just want to have a bath."

"Sweet!" the man exclaimed before stumbling into a backtrack, "That you'll let me have it, I mean, not that you're having a bath, I mean having a bath is good too, I mean -"

Oswald closed his eyes. Who _was_ this guy?

"I get it! I get it," he took a deep breath, "Now will you please get that _thing_ out of my bathroom?"

"Just a second, let me grab a jar. How big would you say it was?"

"The size of my hand," Oswald spat, trying not to picture it again. He startled when the man darted forward and grabbed his hand, pulling it up to his face to examine it.

"Excuse me? What are you doing?"

"Oh, sorry," his hand was quickly dropped, "I was measuring, that's all."

He disappeared back into the apartment on the other side of the hall and Oswald waiting, tapping one hand against his leg, impatient to be rid of his intruder.

"Got it!" the man grinned, holding up a large plastic tub that looked like the ones people buy cheese balls in, "I stole this from a coworker and poked holes in it. It should be perfect!"

Oswald nodded, unsure how to reply, and unlocked his door once more. He pointed at the bathroom, "It's in there. Have at."

The man raced forward, handling the door with care to ensure his prey would not be alarmed, only to reemerge a minute later, jar still empty.

"There's nothing here."

Oswald frowned, "What?"

"No spider," he made a sweeping gesture, inviting Oswald to look for himself. Oswald crept forward slowly, peering into the room before entering in full when he saw his neighbor was right. There was no sign of the spider anywhere.

"It was here, I swear it was here!"

"Don't worry, I believe you. It must have moved."

Oswald froze, "You mean, it could be hiding somewhere? Anywhere? Waiting to pounce when I'm least expecting it?"

"Well, I wouldn't say _pounce_. Spiders don't usually target humans, you know."

"That's so comforting," he sneered, "It could be anywhere! In my cupboards, in my wardrobe - "

"In your ice cream," the other man offered, "that happened to me once. It was weird."  
  
Oswald's eyes widened in a sudden thought, "In my bed! Oh god, I can't sleep in here! That thing will crawl on my face while I'm unconscious!"

His neighbor shrugged again, "You can stay with me if you don't mind sharing the bed. I promise I'll protect you from any spiders trying to creep on you in the night."

Oswald stared at him, "I don't even know your name."

"Edward. Nygma. People call me Ed," Ed held out his hand and Oswald shook it slowly.

"Peter Humboldt."

If this man didn't know who he was, the better for both of them, he decided.

"Well, Peter, the offer still stands," Ed smiled, "I'm not concerned and from the punch you landed earlier, I don't think you have anything to fear either. Except spiders, apparently."

"Watch it, friend," he said, but without the usual bite. That, too, was odd for he would have already stabbed most people for a remark like that. Something about Ed intrigued him, something that told him Ed was unlike any man he'd met before. Whether that difference was good or bad remained to be seen.

However, there was the much more pressing matter of the spider at hand.

"Alright. But be warned when I fight, I take no issue with fighting dirty, and I fight to the death."

"Consider me warned," Ed's grin widened by a fraction and he led Oswald across to his own apartment. When Oswald stepped inside the first thing he noticed was that, while cluttered, the space had a distinct pattern. It wasn't a bad style, all in all, although Oswald could have done without the green light pulsing outside the window.

"That must get annoying," he nodded to it, but Ed only cocked his head, "Not really. I like green."

"Oh. Of course."

"And it makes my rent cheaper."

Oswald nodded. That seemed fair.

Ed pointed at a door on the far wall and said, "I don't use the bath tub much, but it's through there if you still want to take one."

He frowned. He _did_ still like the idea of a bath, but he hadn't had the presence of mind to grab any clothes on his way out, nor did he fancy retrieving any when there could be a monster hiding in them.

"You can borrow some of my old clothes," Ed offered, seeming to read his mind, "They're probably too big for you but it shouldn't be _too_ bad."

"Thank you, friend, in that case, I will," Oswald decided. If his neighbor was going to be generous, Oswald didn't have any qualms taking advantage of it. Ed nodded with enthusiasm and dug out some of his old pajamas. Those, at least, were mostly adjustable in terms of size. He was glad 'Peter' had taken his suggestion, since he needed him distracted for at least a few minutes. A bath would give him more than enough time to hide his little... project.

~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~

Oswald emerged from the bathroom feeling... cozy. It wasn't a feeling with which he was overly familiar, but there was no other word for his current state. The bath had been relaxing, easing most of his worries - the initial ones that had him hiding in his second apartment in the first place, the [not panic] he'd felt at seeing the spider and running into Ed, and the nervousness he felt towards the rest of the evening. No matter what his mother thought he got up to, Oswald had never shared a bed with anyone in his life - for any reason. He wasn't sure what to expect.

Ed was sitting at his table when Oswald found him, scribbling something into a notebook that he hastily shoved inside his suitcase when he heard Oswald enter.

"Hi," he greeted, smiling rather foolishly. Oswald wanted to say he looked dopey, but his brain was insisting that the word he wanted was 'cute'. He shook his head slightly to knock _that_ idea out before it got too far and sat himself down in the other chair.

"So how does this work?"

Ed shrugged, "Not sure, really, I've never had a guest before. I was planning to cook dinner for myself when I got home, but I wouldn't mind making some for you, too."

"You cook?" Oswald asked, genuine interest finding him at last.

The effect was impressive - Ed's face shut like a garage door, his cheerful expression melting seamlessly into a neutral one as he replied, almost defensively, "Yes. I find it enjoyable."

"So do I," Oswald replied and he stared as the entire thing happened again, but in reverse. Ed's eyes were shining again and his face-splitting grin was back as he began to babble about styles and techniques. Oswald could hardly keep up with him, especially given how distracted he was by the way Ed looked. He was beginning to think he'd made a mistake.

"Would you like to help?"

He caught the question before Ed could realize he hadn't been listening and nodded, "That would be nice."

"Wonderful," Ed clapped his hands together as if Christmas had come early, "I was planning on making schnitzel, are you familiar with it?"

"My mother has a recipe she brought over with her, I'm more than familiar with it," Oswald scoffed. Ed either didn't notice or he chose not to, all but dragging Oswald to the kitchen with him, "Can you show me? I've never tried it before."

Between the preparation, the cooking, and of course the eating, dinner took them over two hours in total. To his surprise, Oswald found that Ed was growing on him. The gangly man may have been odd in bearing and interests, but if he looked past the content of Ed's not infrequent rants, Oswald could see only someone who had not yet given in to the cruelty of the world. Someone who was passionate and wanted to share those passions, even if no one else cared, because deep down he still believed someone somewhere would. It was admirable, enviable, in its own right.

"Well it's hardly late enough to sleep," Ed broke the silence that had settled over the dessert course (leftover cupcakes that Ed had made for god-knew-what reason), "I was wondering if you liked games?"

"Games?"

"Yeah. I've got board games and video games."

"Board games, then. Why not?" Oswald answered, unsure why he would agree but too content to argue. It may have also had something to do with a desire to keep Ed in his enthusiastic state rather than his shuttered one, though why Oswald would care was beyond him.

The night had become of Oswald's most enjoyable ones. Ed had an extensive collection of board games, many of which Oswald had never even heard of, such as Rythmomachy. After struggling to comprehend the rules, Oswald was quickly slaughtered by Ed at that one. On bluffing games, however, Oswald won every round, a fact which frustrated Ed as much as it thrilled him.

"I've never lost Stratego before," Ed told him as they packed the game away, "It's a fascinating feeling."

"What is? Losing?"

"No. Knowing that I've finally met someone who can challenge me. That's never happened."

"So, what? You're saying you've never met anyone smarter than you until me?"

"I wouldn't say smarter, per se," Ed shifted uncomfortably, "At least not at certain things. Don't think I haven't noticed the way you keep avoiding Trivial Pursuit. But you're smart in a different way, aren't you? A more strategic way. And that makes you my intellectual equal. I've never had an intellectual equal before."

"Hmm," Oswald said, "Neither have I. Nor have I ever met anyone who can match my ego, although you've given a commendable effort."

Ed gave a small laugh at that before glancing at his watch with a start, "Oh dear, it's gotten late. I have work in the morning. You can stay up, if you like, but I'd better get to bed."

Oswald sighed, knowing he couldn't escape the unavoidable, "No, no, I should get some sleep, too. I wouldn't want to disturb you later, after everything you've done."

"It was no trouble, really," Ed insisted, "I'm glad to have company, if I'm being honest. It's almost like having a friend."

Oswald quirked a half-smile, "I suppose it is, at that."

Ed disappeared briefly to change, returning to find his guest had claimed the left side of the bed. He found himself amused by the man's presumptuous and demanding nature, glad to avoid yet another awkward conversation. Carefully, he settled on the edge of the bed, making sure there were at least two inches between them in every place. It wouldn't do to upset him, not after they'd had such a lovely evening.

Oswald was grateful for the precision with which Ed laid down. His eyes were glued to the ceiling, breathing in an even and controlled fashion. Even with the distance, he could feel the heat radiating off Ed and it felt... soothing. He could hear his heart beating and he hoped he was the only one who could. Everything about this felt too comfortable. The companionship, the warmth, even that odd lavender scent which lingered on the sheets as well (Oswald resolutely focused on the lavender and whatever the other herb was. It would have been beyond rude, he reasoned, to think about the fact that Ed's bed, as bed's are wont to do, smelled like the man who slept in it each night. Not to mention an invasion of privacy to consider just how good of a smell it was.) were all making him feel unnaturally homey.

Soon enough, he drifted off into the calmest sleep he'd had in years.

~ ~ ~

Despite Ed's care the night before, Oswald found himself awakened by intense heat that he soon came to realize was his host. The two had gravitated towards each other during the night and despite his height, Ed had managed to curl himself into a tight ball with his head pressed into Oswald's chest and his arms wrapped around him. Oswald was even more stunned to find his own arms encircling Ed's torso, holding him even closer.

Now he was _definitely_ uncomfortably comfortable. A part of him, a wise part, knew he never wanted to be anywhere else in the world.

The much more intelligent part reminded him that Ed would probably freak out when he woke up if Oswald didn't do something about it first. With the slow caution often reserved for approaching wild animals, Oswald extracted himself from Ed's grasp, resolutely ignoring the small, sad noise he made once left alone and the way he immediately pushed his face into Oswald's abandoned pillow.

He could just leave, he supposed, but that might be even more awkward (not to mention there was still the matter of the spider in his apartment), so instead he decided to poke around Ed's fridge, hoping his neighbor wouldn't mind if it meant waking up to a warm breakfast. It was the least he could do to repay the man.

When the sausage was close and the toast and eggs were ready to start cooling down at any minute, Ed stirred. Oswald glanced at him and immediately regretted doing so. Ed's hair was ruffled and his eyes squinting without his glass and he looked positively adorable. And Oswald really needed to stop because he was a criminal who was already intruding enough into this poor fellow's life.

"Peter?"

It took Oswald a second to realize that was the name he'd given Ed the previous evening.

"Yes? I made breakfast, I hope you don't mind."

"You stayed away from the jars at the back, right?"

"I did. But don't think I didn't recognize their contents because I did. You have weird hobbies."

Ed huffed angrily, "There's no call for insults."

"That was not my intention," Oswald replied truthfully, dishing up two plates of food and bringing them over to the table, "I'm positive mine are weirder."

"Oh," Ed said, sounding almost lost, "I - I've never heard anyone consider 'weird' a good thing."

"Hmm, well, I find that when someone insults you, the best way to get revenge is to own the insult. Embrace it."

Ed, hair somewhat neater and glasses in place, dropped into the open chair, eyeing the food with hunger.

"That looks good and it smells better," he said in lieu of an answer, "I hope the taste keeps to the pattern."

What an odd way to compliment a meal, Oswald thought, and yet how distinctly _Ed_.

"So I take it you'll be off to work soon?"

"In forty minutes," Ed nodded.

"I'll be off when you are, then," Oswald assured him, "I don't stay in this building very often, anyway. My main place is on the other side of the city. I mostly use this one when it gets... uncomfortable to stay there."

Ed's eyebrows drooped a little as he gave a weak laugh, "Girlfriend troubles?"

Oswald's laugh was far more robust, "Not even close. I live with my mother. I worry about her sometimes, but on occasion it gets to be... too much."

"Your mother?" Ed asked, and Oswald suddenly got the impression that this was what Ed looked like while doing his experiments. It was unsettling although not unfriendly.

"Yes."

"You're close, then? You and your mother?"

"Yes. We only have each other and that's how it's always been. I'm sure that seems strange to you, most people think it is, but it's who we are and we're quite content to be that way."

"It is strange to me," Ed frowned at eggs, "But probably not for the reason it's strange to most people," he shook his head, a bit of his usual cheerfulness sneaking back in as he changed the subject, "I just want to say, Peter, before you leave: I don't really have much in the line of friends, but I think last night was what having a friend feels like and I enjoyed it a lot. I would be honored to be your friend, if you don't mind?"

"Um - "

"We wouldn't have to do much, or anything, really. Just know that you're welcome here any time and if you ever want to do something I'm free.. well, every night."

He looked so eager and hopeful and desperate all rolled up into one ridiculously tall and skinny man and Oswald's heart informed him that he would under _no_ circumstances be crushing that spark, as bad as an idea as the alternative was.

"It's fine, Ed, I'd love to be your friend. I'm pretty busy and I don't make it out here often, but I promise I'll stop by when I'm around. Deal?"

Ed gasped a little in shock and delight as he nodded with the speed and excitement of a puppy wagging its tail, "Deal!"

Oswald felt a smile overtaking his own features and he knew that he was playing a dangerous game.

Well, he _was_ a criminal. Danger was just a part of the job.

~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~

Oswald entered the GCPD with his heart admittedly lighter than it should have been. He was going to invite Jim to his new club as another sign of their friendship. Jim would accept, right? Because it was the smart thing to do. Because it was the kind thing to do. Because it was the _right_ thing to do. Right?

But Jim was not at his desk.

A minor setback.

Just as he turned to look elsewhere, a shadow caught the corner of his eye. The feeling of eyes on him was one he was trained to notice, so he slowly gazed upwards, searching for the spy.

And he found him.

Oswald's heart skipped a beat (in fear, he told himself, _in fear_ ) when his eyes landed on the form of his neighbor, Ed, the man with whom he'd once shared a bed.

A man who worked for the police.

A man who was watching him from behind a pillar, pretending to be subtle.

He turned away deliberately, watching out of the corner of his eye as Ed followed him at a distance. When the chase began to feel childish, Oswald came to a halt, waiting for Ed to, inevitably, sidle up beside him.

"Can I help you?"

"I don't think so," Ed enunciated carefully before drawing out his last word with a smirk, "' _Peter_ '."

Oswald glared at him, "As you can see, I had a perfectly good reason for giving you that name. You're a cop, for god's sake."

"No," Ed sucked both his lips inward in a nervous give, "Forensics."

"I feel _so_ much better about that," Oswald rolled his eyes.

"Well if I'd told you, you would have left! And I wasn't lying, I swear," Ed insisted, more desperate than Oswald thought necessary, "I really was just trying to help. And make a friend. If it makes you feel any better you were nicer to me than any cop on the force, with the possible exception of Detective Gordon."

"Yes, he's quite the man, isn't he? You haven't seen him, have you?"

"I have. He's over there."

Oswald nodded, giving a short farewell to Ed before hobbling towards the detective.

Jim was far less receptive than Oswald had hoped.

Still, maybe if he left the invitation with Jim, he'd change his mind?

Movement caught his eye again and he saw Ed disappearing through a door at the back of the station. His mind shifted gears in an instant, years of crime teaching him how to think on his feet. His mother liked to talk about shut doors and open windows, and he was a firm believer in the proverb himself.

"In that case, Detective, I wish you luck on your case. Perhaps someday you'll see that my way is right, and if you do, I'll be waiting. Good day."

He turned, heading instead for the door at the back, ignoring Jim's inquiry as to where he thought he was headed.

On the other side of the door was a hallway lined with labs and other rooms. Evidence was back here, he knew, as was the morgue. He only hoped he could complete his mission before some cop tried to forcibly escort him out.

"Excuse me, aren't you the Penguin?"

"I'm sorry? And you are?" he asked the woman in the lab coat none too politely.

"Dr. Thompkins, Medical Examiner. What exactly do you think you're doing back here?"

"I'm here to see Mr. Nygma."

"Has he done something to upset one of the gangs?"

"Not at all. He helped me out not long ago and I thought I'd return the favor with an invitation to my club's grand opening. I saw him head this way?"

Dr. Thompkins nodded, "I'm not positive he's in there, but his office is the second door on the left. I don't want to cause trouble but I'll be watching to make sure you don't 'accidentally' get lost on the way," she added and he made a mental note that the M.E. had a bit of fire.

He entered Ed's office and smiled at the familiar smells and organized chaos. He smiled, that is, until his eyes settled on a _very_ familiar tub with an even more familiar arachnid inside of it.

"Who - Oswald?" the voice came from the doorway and Oswald spun around to stare at him.

"What are you doing back here?" he asked with a slight panic to his voice.

"I... came to deliver an invitation. Detective Gordon may be the wrong person to befriend. I'm beginning to appreciate you more. But now..."

"But now what?" Ed asked, eyes wide, and Oswald allowed himself to torture Ed just a little as he waited to answer.

"What is that _thing_ doing in your office, Ed?"

"I - well - I - er - um..."

"Spit it out."

"You remember how we played a lot of games that night?" Ed asked finally.

Oswald sighed and hissed out, "Yesss..?"

"You cannot know me and not defame me, but if you miss me I will shame thee. What am I?"

"Is this - are you asking me a riddle?"

"Do you like riddles?"

"Not particularly."

"Then do you give up?"

"I - "

"It's a bluff! You remember how in all those games you kept calling my bluff?"

"Yes," Oswald replied shortly. Perhaps he'd made the wrong decision again. Ed was beginning to grate on his nerves.

"All night long you called every single bluff I made save for one. You missed the only bluff that mattered."

Oswald frowned, "And what, pray tell, was that?"

Ed bit his lip, eyes darting to the spider in the jar before flicking back to Oswald's, "That one. I..." he mumbled something to softly for Oswald to hear.

With a dangerous glint in his eye, Oswald leaned forward, "Speak up, _Ed_. I didn't catch that."

"I said, 'I lied about the spider. It was sitting on the tub right where you said it would be and I hid it in my coat pocket until I had the chance to hide the jar.'"

Oswald gaped at him and Ed stared back, hands twisting in agitation but no more words passing his lips.

"I - you - Why? Why would you do that?"

Ed looked at his shoes, pouting slightly, "Because I didn't know how else to talk to you. I - I've always known who you were, and I've always wanted to get your attention. Because I've tried to get theirs," he gestured in the direction of the GCPD entrance, "and I've been rejected over and over again. I thought maybe, maybe I was trying to befriend the wrong people. Maybe you would understand, or at least be willing to try, but I knew you would kick me out as soon as you saw I'd done what you asked. So I... I lied. Not to hurt you or gather information or anything, I swear!, just so that I wouldn't be lonely, if only for a night."

He glanced up quickly before averting his gaze again, "I'm sorry."

Oswald still hadn't fully comprehended things but slowly it was all falling into place. He began to laugh, a light chuckle at first but soon his whole body was shaking with it. He didn't stop until he caught sight of Ed's face and the tears that had begun to mar it with their tracks.

That gave him pause and against his better judgement he reached out to wipe one away with the pad of his thumb. Ed tensed but stood his ground.

"Ed, I'm not laughing at you. Well, not the way you're thinking."

"You're not?" Ed sniffed and _damn_ if it wasn't the cutest thing Oswald had ever seen. Fuck it. He'd already let things go too far there was no point in stopping now.

"I'm laughing because that is the most elaborate ploy I've ever heard of to get someone into your bed for the sole purposes of actual, literal _sleep_."

And then he was disoriented again, as much as he'd been the first time they'd spoken, because all at once he found himself with an armful of Ed and a pair of soft lips against his own and Ed must still have been crying because there were tears on his face that he knew weren't his.

Just as suddenly it was over and Ed felt miles away as he scrambled backwards towards the door.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Penguin, I don't know why I did that, it was a terrible invasion of privacy, please don't kill me!"

Oswald blinked at him slowly and deliberately, "I have no intention of killing you Ed."

"You don't?" Ed questioned in a shaky voice as he felt his back connect with the wood of the door. Oswald was stalking closer and there was nowhere for him to run. The door opened inward. He was trapped.

When the toes of Oswald's shoes were precisely two inches away from the toes of Ed's, Oswald stopped, staring up at his prey with intensely piercing eyes.

"No. Because your being dead would decrease my enjoyment of this next part _immensely_."

Ed gulped. He'd taken beatings from a variety of people before, but never outright torture. And torture it must be for this was the infamous Penguin and what else could he possibly mean?

Oswald smirked as he saw the gears turning in that beautifully complex mind, saw them completely miss the mark, and as soon as they did he took one last tiny step forward, grabbed the knot of Ed's tie, and yanked him down for a much harsher imitation of Ed's earlier kiss. Not that he intended for the roughness of it, he simply knew no other way to be. Ed's passions presented themselves in eagerness and enthusiasm, while Oswald's were expressed through power and control and up until now, rage. He was the Penguin and no matter how much he desired and (heaven, or maybe hell, help him) even _cared about_ the adorable forensic scientist in front of him, that fact would never change.

Luckily for him, Ed wouldn't have wanted him any other way.

**Epilogue:**

"Nygma!"

"Ed! Hey, Ed! Are you in there? Are you alright?"

"Where's Penguin?!"

"What's he doing?!"

Before they had the chance to separate, much less fix their appearances, Jim barreled into the door, sending Ed flying forward straight (well, perhaps not _straight_ ) into Oswald, whose leg gave out from the pressure. It happened like a line of dominoes: fast and comedic.

More comedic were the faces of the GCPD's best when they barged into the room to find their most awkward and adept forensic scientist bracing himself with his forearms against the floor as he laid on top of none other than the Penguin, crime lord extraordinaire.

From his place under Ed, Oswald turned his head to lock eyes with Jim. He gave a smirk almost as wide as the one he'd given Ed and stated firmly, "Sorry, Jim. I'm afraid you're invitation's been retracted. I've found someone much more amiable to take your place."

And with that he reached up with both hands, pulling Ed back into their make out session and achieving the intended additional effect of making Detective Bullock fake gag and flee the scene, Jim not far behind.

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't find a place to work this in but the other herb I keep mentioning is actually ginkgo which is supposed to be good for stimulating the brain (although dangerous to anemics like myself)
> 
> Also I did once find a spider in my ice cream it was so weird
> 
> Rythmomachy is also known as The Philosopher's Game and it's a centuries old game about math. There's a Wikipedia article if you're interested
> 
> Update: (I can't believe I forgot to link this!) @riverance made some fantastic art of this story, which can be found at  
> http://riverance.tumblr.com/post/163417520663/i-made-a-little-comics-for-amazing-story-the-only


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